


At Bunker Hill

by comete



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Ambiguous Sole Survivor, Fantasy, First Time, Gender Ambiguous, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Established, Nonbinary Character, Now For The Catch All Tags :), Other, PWP, Smut, again kinda ?, and deacon is weak against The Lust (TM), deacon is dirty, horny deacon for the win!!!, kinda ?, ok so here are the tags, so do what you want with that when u read, sole is fully aware of what they are doing, their gender is never stated, there is no explicitly stated body parts for them, this is literally just smut, uhhh lets see, use ur own oc!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24215053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comete/pseuds/comete
Summary: Maybe it was wrong to lust over a Vault-Tec brand popsicle that made the cut for a senior discount at The Third Rail on account of being two hundred years old.Deacon x Sole, gender not stated. Plot? I don't know her.
Relationships: Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	At Bunker Hill

**Author's Note:**

> Deacon doesn't have any shame and apparently neither does Sole.

Deacon awoke suddenly, eyes shooting open wide when he heard the sound of his companion's voice groan quietly out in pain from the bedroom beside his. It was late and far into the evening with the sunrise being only a few hours away. The Railroad agent sat up from his mattress on the floor, silencing his breath and focusing on the outcry that came from his companion's room. There weren't footsteps or the sounds of anyone talking as he held his breath in the pitch dark, the only noise indicating that anything had been disrupted now seconds behind without a new vibration to replace it. 

The pair were staying at the rental shacks in Bunker Hill, side by side second-story rooms that had become a known camping ground for them whenever they were in the area. They enjoyed the company of the travelers and merchants that took up residency in the small monument turned tourism trap. Sole and Deacon always made it a point to stay the night when they were in the region, such as the night like this one.

Deacon scrunched his eyebrows together and stared at the shared wall, itching his bare chest with the baby blue tattered blanket fallen and pooling around his gray boxer briefs. He squinted his unshaded eyes to the door a few feet from him, though the shack entrance had not been disturbed in the slightest. The makeshift barrier of a loose metal chair that held the doorknob from being turned showed true of still being exactly how he left it. Sole wasn't one to have nightmares usually, but the commotion sounded as if they were hurt.

Silence passed by for a few tense moments. Nothing was detected. Deacon was about to lay back down when, once more, he heard a low moan echo from the vault dweller's rented room. "What in hell," Deacon grumbled barely to himself, standing up as inaudibly as he could from his place of warmth. The air was cool, shacks not regularly being great with insulation. He stepped carefully over to the shared wood wall, cursing mentally when a floorboard squeaked louder than an atomic bomb being blown up. 

Pressing his ear to the partition, eyes closing as he focused all of his attention to hearing any clues as to what was going on, the agent promptly got an answer that he almost couldn't believe.

Soft panting and muted sounds of what he at first had mistaken to be pained now turned pleasure radiated to his brain. 

His companion was masturbating.

Slick sounds of friction were caught, though hardly, as the speed of a hand moving harmonized with the hot breath that puffed out unapologetically. 

"Oh. My. God." Deacon mouthed silently, eyes wide with attention as he pulled his ear away from the wall with a shiver running through his spine down to his toes. He had wondered in the months traveling close beside his ally what their sexual habits were, general curiosity, and his urges questioning if they ever got up to anything sinful. During the times that Deacon took to spying on the Sole Survivor, he had never seen them participate in a one night stand or quick fuck with someone around the Commonwealth. That's not to say that they didn't, however, they merely didn't engage in activity on Deacon's watch. And yet, here they were, sharing a wall with Deacon and unable to keep themselves from letting loose a few groans while their hand went to work. 

Deacon sighed a breath as another gentle moan bled through the walls. It was unethical to spy. Deacon knew this. It was also his job, however, to break the standard moral code of snooping. It was his entire pride and joy of being the silent intel of the Railroad. He weighed the pros and cons of listening in on his companion get off, facing an ethical dilemma that prevented him from proceeding.

Cons.   
He would be breaking an invisible layer of trust, though if he kept quiet himself there wouldn't be any way that his partner would find out he was monitoring in. It made him feel guilty, however, as he observed the vault dweller at one of their most intimate states.

Pros.  
Deacon was getting hard and would love nothing more than to follow along in activity with the person he has been fantasizing about for a while now. It would also fall under the category of intel, he told himself. Maybe Desdemona will come rushing to Deacon someday and relay that if she doesn't know how long it takes for the Sole Survivor to orgasm then the entire Commonwealth will blow up in sixty seconds. Deacon would be a hero as he could then supply the knowledge needed, but only if he took advantage of the opportunity before him right now. 

He'd probably even get a medal or something. 

Pushing down the familiar friend of guilt, he shrugged. Deacon's growing stiffness held a fair argument that didn't appear to be able to be matched. The guilt would come afterward, but as of right now? 

He had some spying to do.

Deacon reached into his light gray boxer briefs and slid his right hand down through the waistband till he reached the base of his growing cock, leaning his ear back to the wall as he sealed his eyes tightly and allowed his imagination to present what he believed his partner resembled like on the other side of the wall. Deacon could hear the increased movements of wet massage, the breathing having grown somewhat stronger in the time it took for him to debate what he should do with the matter at hand.

A tiny groan from his partner waved out and went directly to his dick, palming himself lazily as he wasted no time in getting hard. He had dreamed eighty different ways of getting tangled up with his companion, there was no doubt, but he had never had the thought of spying on them while they touched themselves. Now that he was living the situation, Deacon was glad that it had never occurred to him before now. 

His fantasy wouldn't have done the real thing the justice that it deserved.

Deacon shimmied out of his underwear, dropping it to the floor and kicking it away after stepping out of it and observing his tall erection that took no time at all with forming. It defied reason of just how much his partner affected him in the dirtiest of ways. He was normally collected, level-headed, and carried himself as a reasonable person. It had taken him only a matter of a minute or two to get rock solid by the sounds of the Sole Survivor alone.

It was pathetic.   
He loved it.

Deacon stretched his hand back down to his tingling hard cock, stroking himself gradually while he engulfed the wonderful noises that seeped through the walls. Another shudder radiated his body at the abrupt reality that the person he wanted to tear into the most was separated by a mere shack wall and touching themselves- and possibly, maybe, just for him?

They had stayed in the rentals of Bunker Hill before, a few times. Both of them were aware of how thin the walls were and had even made jokes about it in the past. One of them would knock a few times and the other would respond with a single knock, completing the sing-song jingle they made with the knocking. They've had full conversations in their respective rooms before, falling asleep shortly after they carried on a talk. What if Sole was masturbating with the full intention of groaning loud enough to wake Deacon up?

What if they were putting on a show just for him?

Deacon stroked a little faster, wet sounds of skin from his partner heating his body while his mind raced at the possibilities. They didn't sound as if they were covering their mouth, needy breath whining out ever so often in desperation that Deacon swore he could satisfy. If they were truly trying to keep quiet, wouldn't they have taken precautions to make sure they weren't heard?

Pre-cum dripped from the pink head of his cock, taking his fingers and coating the stiffness before resuming jerking himself off. Deacon wanted to know what they looked like as they pleasured themselves, craving to seek out the contortions of their body as they put on a display of fucking themselves just for him. Pressing his ear harder to the wall to ensure he didn't miss a single hot pant from the lips of his companion, Deacon swayed his hips forward into his fist at the concept and risk of leaving his room and entering theirs.

A wall divided them, but he could simply enter their quarters and see the show in person. The thought caused him to grunt out a soft noise himself, locking his eyes tight with the idea of getting a front-row seat to the presentation. He knew that he wouldn't be able to last long if he was able to watch the Sole Survivor fuck themselves. Deacon testified that he would cum in no time if he was graced with the privilege, soon after probably naturally dying and meeting Atom in Heaven since it would be way too gratifying to be true.

_ "Jesus, fuck," _ a harsh whisper of words came from his partner through the shack. The words were low but dragged out as the slick sounds only sped up. Soft creaking from their metal frame bed came into play. Groans that grew with a little more volume, a breath that was hitching with each passing instant, and now peppered in curse words that ricketed with the bedframe all worked together in a beautiful orchestra.

Deacon was growing desperate himself, fucking into the tightly closed fist as his sounds of wet skin soon quietly hit the walls of his room. He was too far gone, too deep into a lust to care. He was listening to the person of his dreams curse with need. Why should he do any different?

He bit his lip, chest heaving as his hand worked steadily to bring him closer and closer to the edge. Deacon wanted to leave his room, go to his partner, and fuck them till they couldn't move. Pound their tightness till they were crying out in pleasure. He grew drunk on the dream of fucking them till they were full and dripping with his cum, unable to breathe. Deacon wanted to make them forget anything outside of the walls of the bedroom, any horror or disaster that they had witnessed previously. 

Deacon wanted to fuck them fast and hard till they couldn't think anymore.

He caught the whisper of urgency leave their lips, the survivor whimpering out into the darkness of their rented bedroom,  _ "Fuck yes, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum. Christ, I'm close." _

Deacon didn't know fully if they were aware of his presence but guessed that they were by the distinct sound of his own wheezed breath and strokes that passed through the wall. It was a gamble, but through the haze of his close approaching orgasm, he decided to take a risk that could go very wrong or very right. 

Go big or go home, huh?

Deacon pressed his mouth against the wood, eyes still shut as the pooling of fire in his stomach trembled his bare legs. He wasn't going to last long himself. He held in a breath and dared to take that risk. 

He spoke.

"Do it. I wanna hear you fucking cum for me."

There was a moment of stillness that lasted for what he felt like an entirety, continuing to jack himself off without a flash of rest as the prompt impending feeling that he had just outed himself as a pervert set into his nerves. There wasn't an answer for a short pause, but the response he did eventually receive made the few seconds of panic worth it.

The suspension was due to Sole losing their voice as they hit their limit. A sudden choked cry of pleasure rang into the shack as the vault dweller came from the rough motions of their hands and simplistic order from Deacon. Their legs stiffen and hands shook as they inclined over the edge, not being shy and hide the sounds of their enthusiasm from Deacon. 

This, of course, also was the cherry on top that Deacon needed before he came into his hand. His breathing was ripped away as he bit down hard on his lip, gasping out a moan as his cum came out in strands from his stiff cock. It left him dizzy, unable to recall the last time he had orgasmed so hard that he was left with a headache and shaky body. It was amazing, almost too good, he swore.

Deacon composed his breath what he could, eyes opening gradually as he gazed down at his coated hand that burned from the persistent grinding. The agent let out a tiny laugh, huffing his heavy chest as he swept down to his discarded underwear to wipe his palm clean. He could overhear the same uneven breaths coming from the room next to him, comforting him affectionately without much being maintained between them.

Should he say something? What would he even say? _A thank you?_

Deacon let out one definitive sigh as his gasps came back into his control, chest reducing down as he calmed. Unsure of where they stood after the steamy interaction, he resolved to not say anything, but preform a familiar action instead.

He knocked on the wall in a singsong manner, repeating out the jingle that they had exchanged a few times previously when they had stayed at the thin-walled shack.

There wasn't an answer, nerves getting the better of Deacon in a moment as he wondered if he had crossed the line too far. It wasn't until Deacon turned on his heel to return to the mattress on the floor that he heard the two finishing knocks behind him that brought the short song to a close.

Deacon smirked.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!! Please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed it! I write based on the interactions I get :)


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